Keep Me
by cosyma
Summary: She looked untouched, untouchable. He hated it.


**Keep Me**

* * *

She was straddled on top of him, riding him. If he consciously thought about it, his brain would implode. As it was, his thoughts were completely consumed with driving into that welcoming heat. His hands were clamped down on soft silken thighs. He knew they would leave bruises on her beautifully delicate skin. He wanted to mark every inch of her so that she could never be rid of him. There was only possession and heat. He looked up at her. Her eyes were closed. He wanted to shake her, make her open those eyes to see him, only him. His anger fueled his lust as he pushed in impossibly deeper. Her name fell from his lips like a benediction.

"Oh, God, Bella!"

Edward felt his whole body shudder as he clutched desperately to the petite girl who could break him so easily. He breathed in the scent of her, at the hollow of her neck. He loved the way their smells mingled together after sex, uniquely them. He reverently pressed a small kiss to her throat, he felt the rhythm of her heartbeat against his lips.

She squirmed slightly away from him, it was her signal to be let go. He held on for a moment longer before he complied. She gingerly got off his lap. She was naked except for the lacy red bra that he had been in to much of a hurry to take off. He watched as she gathered her clothes and turned away from him to walk into the bathroom. She shut the door with a soft click.

He grabbed a towel from his drawer to clean himself off. He also put on a fresh pair of boxers. Edward sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. Isabella always took a while in the bathroom. He imagined she was trying to wipe away every trace of him.

Edward didn't lie to himself, maybe to others but not to himself. He knew why they had started this thing between them. It had been purely for revenge. Now, a couple of weeks later, he knew he was caught. He laughed at the bitter irony. Using one sister to get back at the other, it had been the perfect plan. Now he was ensnared by Isabella Cullen. And she didn't go for the clean kill, she played with her prey. Edward knew this only too well. He thought he knew pain before, he was wrong.

When he had found out that Rosalie was cheating on him, he'd wanted to kill her. Only the cool, calm voice of Isabella Cullen and her promise of payback stopped him. As much as Rosalie's betrayal hurt, the prospect of being with Isabella overshadowed it. That should have been his first clue.

Edward Masen had a fatal weakness for the Cullen girls. They were beautiful, smart and sexy as hell. But it wasn't just that, they had something special. Heads turned when they walked into a room. They were magnetic. Rosalie was the more outgoing of the two, she always managed to be the center of attention. Isabella was more reserved and somewhat mysterious. She held herself back, as if she hadn't made up her mind yet about whether the people around her were worth her time. This only made them try harder to impress her and usually failing miserably. He was one of them. Or he had been one of them.

He heard the bathroom door open. She looked perfect, clothes straightened, hair pulled into a neat ponytail, as if she hadn't been writhing wildly on top of him not ten minutes before. She looked untouched, untouchable. He hated it.

Isabella walked into the room and stopped in front of him. The petite brunette smiled down upon him like a goddess. It was fitting since he worshipped her. She was his entire world. He knew it, unfortunately, she knew it too. Or maybe not. But he felt that she should, how could she not know? Every time he saw her, he wanted to grab her and shout 'mine, mine, mine.' And he didn't know why she wanted to keep it secret still, Rosalie knew. In fact, she'd been infuriatingly unconcerned about the whole thing. So he was resentful and a little hurt. Why didn't she want people to know? Was she just using him? Didn't she feel anything for him? Was he always going to be a loser when it came to the Cullen girls?

"So are you coming on Friday?" Her voice interrupted his bitter thoughts. He schooled his features to maintain his normally casual façade. He grinned wickedly and wagged his eyebrows at her.

"I don't know, that depends on you." She smiled, as if unable to help herself. She hit him playfully in the arm. She always found him amusing, he wanted to take comfort in that.

"Edward, can you be serious for a minute?" He was always serious when it came to her.

"There's a thing called afterglow, you know, it's something I'd like to try with you one day." She rolled her eyes at him.

On impulse, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped their positions on the bed until he was lying on top of her. He looked at her. She had the wind knocked out of her and she was breathless. That was how he wanted her, breathless, pulse pounding. The way he always was around her.

"You wouldn't know what to do with me." She sighed thoughtfully and traced his eyebrows gently with her finger. She was fond of him, that much he knew. But he also knew that she and Rosalie were close to making up. And if Rosalie decided she didn't want Isabella to be with him, he would be gone. He knew it like he knew the sun would rise the next morning. And it scared him. Any minute he felt like Isabella would utter the words that would be the death knell of their relationship, well not even a relationship, their fling, or whatever.

"So are you coming to our party on Friday?"

"Now would I miss out on the social event of the season?"

Isabella Cullen had a smile that could knock him to his knees. Luckily, he was lying down. Her expression changed to one of concern.

"I just want to warn you, Rosalie invited Emmett. I don't know if he's coming but…" She shrugged. Edward tensed and felt something close to rage pass through him. He controlled himself… barely. Emmett was Isabella's ex and Rosalie's new boy toy. He almost felt sorry for Emmett, Rosalie burned through guys faster than firecrackers on the Fourth of July. He should know. What he wanted to know was when Isabella was going to be tired of him. The concern on her face turned to regret.

"I'm sorry, maybe we shouldn't…" He silenced her with a kiss. This was his home. She was his home. He stopped the kiss, but kept his face pressed close to hers so their noses touched.

"What will I get if I promise to be good?" She pulled him back for another kiss. That was a good enough answer for now. But he didn't ask the real question, he didn't know if he could. If I promise to be good, will you keep me, Isabella Cullen?


End file.
